


i just called to say i love you

by solilioquy



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Love Confessions, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a dork, Precious Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solilioquy/pseuds/solilioquy
Summary: a late night call to ned prompts a lot of thinking and an impromptu visit to mj





	i just called to say i love you

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at like 1am so it’s questionable but oh well  
it was edited on an aeroplane so that’s doubly questionable  
enjoy lmao

It was around 3am when Peter decided he should probably stop attempting to sleep, because it clearly wasn't going to happen.

Deciding he didn't care if Ned was awake or not, he pressed the 'call' button and listened to the monotonous, dull ringing for a few seconds before a muffled groan came through the speaker.

"What? Unless this is Happy calling because you died on duty or something, I don't care! Go to sleep!"

"Gee, someone's cheerful."

"Well, someone would be cheerier if they hadn't been woken up at," there was a pause as Ned rolled over to look at his clock, "three o'clock in the morning for no reason whatsoever!"

"Okay, so maybe it's a bit early. But I couldn't sleep and I wanted to talk to someone!" Peter protested, almost wishing he hadn't called because of all the shit he would get for this later, when Ned could form more coherent sentences.

"Dude, not cool. 3am calls are for emergencies only. Why didn't you just call MJ or something? She's probably awake, you and I both know she doesn’t know the meaning of sleep."

Peter was stumped for a second. That was actually a good point. Plus, 3am calls were supposed to be for emergencies only.

"I-I didn't think about that. Sorry for waking you up.”

"Don’t sweat it. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep, so I’m going to leave you to call your lover."

An indignant splutter could be heard from Peter's end as the words, "MJ's not my lover!" came tumbling out of his mouth, a little too quickly for him to be telling the truth. An amused snort could be heard from Ned’s end of the call.

"Dude, stop lying. She’s your girlfriend and besides, everyone knows you're in love with her, except maybe you, and MJ."

"That's ridiculous! MJ doesn't love me, and I don't love her!"

"That's what you're saying, but I don't believe a word of it. Night!"

And with that, Ned hung up the phone, the robotic beep signalling the end of the non-emergency 3am call.

Peter let out a frustrated sigh as he flopped back onto his pillow, thinking about what Ned had just said. Did he love MJ? Was he lying to himself?

The more he thought about it, the more confused he got. Love was never really something he thought he’d get to experience, especially since the bite. It just wasn’t something that seemed sensible for him to dabble in, because anyone he cared for was immediately put in danger. But somehow he knew that things with MJ would be different. She wouldn’t and couldn’t take shit from anyone, and he knew that if it came down to it, she’d take care of herself.

His train of thought always ended up at MJ somehow, but now it was exclusively her. Her wild, unruly, but breathtakingly beautiful curls, her incessant drinking of tea and coffee (occasionally at the same time, depending on the day), her crooked smile every time she got a little shy, and the way her eyes lit up every time she saw a bookstore on the street.

Her dark eyes, so often glued to a book, and the quirk of her eyebrow when Flash made a questionable comment (that was more often than not, so MJ’s eyebrow assumed a raised position by default when he was in the room). The way her handwriting got more and more slanted as she wrote, and her writer’s callus that she frequently massaged between classes. Her insanely large collection of literature, most of which promoted great social change or depicted a doomed romance (her love of people in crisis went further than sketching).

They way she stuck her hands in her pockets ‘because it looks more intimidating’, her way with words, and her disregard for social norms. Her radical feminist agenda (her words, not his) and live of protests (‘if it pisses off Trump, I’m doing it). In conclusion, she was his favourite person.

The constant flow of memories and thoughts sent Peter’s brain into a frenzy, to the point where he couldn’t decide where they ended and life began. If we’re being honest, they were one and the same. It was 4am when he snapped out of his reverie and and came to the sudden realization that he loved her. It came as a bit of shock, but it also wasn't a shock at all, because it felt so natural, so right to be in love with her.

Due to the abruptness of his discovery, and the lateness (or earliness-who knows?) of the hour, an idea popped into his head, almost entirely fueld by caffeine: the most insane idea in the world (which said a lot because he’d willingly gone to space to fight aliens).

Peter was going to tell her. Right now. Even though it was 4am. Ned’s point still stood. That girl didn’t know the meaning of the word sleep. He smiled fondly to himself as more images of her flashed unbidden into his mind.

But he couldn’t tell her right now right now, because the fear of rejection was real (and he was a bit of a chicken). He would tell her when he'd swung to her apartment and forced himself to stay and not just swing right back to the safety of his room.

That said, he still swung there and back twice, both times reaching her window and finding himself unable to knock. Third time lucky, he arrived at her window and peered inside, something he hadn't dared do until then.

A soft glow was coming from the lamp on MJ's nightstand, and she was sitting on her bed, reading a particularly thick volume, even for her standards.

War and Peace, Peter thought absentmindedly. That’s a long book, right? He also couldn't help but think that she looked adorable, hair tied up in a loose ponytail, a fluffy blanket wrapped around her torso. A pair of transparent-at-the-heel socks adorned her feet, and a torch poked out from underneath her pillow. MJ’s face was displaying a content expression, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

—

Peter Parker showing up at her window in the dead of night/ungodly hours of the morning was nothing new for MJ, although she could sense something was off with him before he'd even had the chance to pull his mask over his face.

"What's up? You seem a little... on edge."

Shit. He thought. Do I really seem that nervous?

"Hello, Earth to Peter! Is anybody there?" She questioned, waving a hand in front of his face, now sans spandex.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Spaced out a little bit." It was a lame excuse, but it'd have to do since his brain conveniently switched off the second he saw her.

"No shit." A beat. "So, you gonna tell me why you showed up at my house at five o’clock in the morning, or am I gonna be left wondering for the rest of my life?"

Even in the dim light of the moon and streetlights, she saw his face turn pale. "Hey, are you okay?" Still nothing. "Peter, you're scaring me. What's going on? What's happened? Is it May, Ned? Talk to me."

"MJ it's just... I-I love you." It all came out in a rush, not at all how he planned it (he couldn’t plan to save his life, as he’d previously demonstrated on ferry, to name just one example), but somehow he knew it was right.

She froze, a shocked expression replacing the worried one she wore moments before. Her eyes widened, and her mouth hung open ever so slightly.

Peter still stood there, nervously playing with his mask, which he still held in his hands. After a moment, his feet began to shuffle slightly towards the window. He might not be able to plan anything, but escaping? Getting out of not-so-ideal situations? That was his forte.

"I- you- what?" She spluttered. "You love me?"

He wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded somewhat sheepishly and found an interesting piece of floor to inspect. After a moment of silence, he spoke up.

"It’s fine if you don’t feel the same," he said, followed by a nervous laugh, "I wouldn’t hate you or anything, I could never hate you, not even for a second. I won’t even mention it again. Shit, I’ve ruined everything now, haven’t I?” His words came out a mile a minute, with almost no pauses for breath.

MJ let out a small laugh, the kind you give out before you burst into uncontrollable, infectiously joyful laughter.

"Dork”, she muttered affectionately, before adding, “I love you too, loser."

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on wattpad on @solilioquy


End file.
